This is a disturbing little book. Susie Orbach, a psychotherapist who hangs out in London and New York, examines the connection between the brain and the body to get at the psychological pain suffered by those whose body image fails them.

Beginning with a scholarly discussion explaining her thesis that "every aspect of our body sense embodies something about our mother’s own physicality," she explores the power of touching and its role in producing psychological scars. She admonishes therapists to pay attention to the body.

Orbach then excoriates a global culture that sends up millions of images of bodies that become ideals impossible to match. And she takes on the "merchants of body hatred" — plastic surgeons and the diet industry that make billions of dollars offering ways to change that imperfect body. Knowing she cannot put an end to this advertising and commercial bonanza that play on one’s anxiety, she tries to help her readers understand and accept their unique bodies.

Two men, desperate to move this nation toward a new approach to the world community, resort to a classic film to make their point. John Hulsman, a German expert in foreign relations, and A. Wess Mitchell, director of Washington, D.C.’s Center for European Policy Analysis — scholars both — want political decision-makers to sit down and watch Francis Ford Coppola’s "The Godfather" one more time.

Democrats should pay close attention to Vito Corleone’s adopted son, Tom Hagen. As the Don’s consigliere, he mirrors their party’s adherence to "liberal institutionalism." The Republicans’ "neoconservative" standard-bearer is the tough guy, Sonny. But the hero in the eyes of the authors is son Michael, the realist.

It may seem a frivolous analogy, but the parallels are there. One must hand it to these two thinkers for coming up with an entertaining and thought-provoking road map for a nation at a serious crossroads in its march into the future.

The Frozen Thames
Helen Humphreys
Delacorte, 183 pp., $22

From the year of our Lord 1142 until Londoners rebuilt their famous bridge at the end of the 19th century, the River Thames would change the face of London when it froze. For those who lived there when it happened, life was magical.

At least that is what Helen Humphreys would have us believe. Canadian by birth, Humphreys creates 40 little vignettes based on legend and history, and surrounds them with beautiful reproductions of artwork evocative of the year or image invoked.

Each story fortifies the theme that ice is transformative — either for good or ill. At times, it was so cold that birds fell from the sky. Residents sought its isolation during the plagues. Adventuresome youths tried out skates designed by Hollanders. Ferrymen fretted. Beginning in the 17th century, Frost Fairs turned the river into a fairyland.

This lovely little book would be a surprising and thoughtful gift for those who love London, its history and its river.

The Little Book on Meaning: Why We Crave It, How We Create It
Laura Berman Fortgang
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Penguin, 212 pp., $21.95

Part memoir, part sermon, "The Little Book on Meaning" is the work of New Jersey interfaith minister and life coach Laura Fortgang. The author, after exploring all kinds of religions, settles on a belief in connectedness, a belief that meaning comes from standing quiet and letting oneself feel connected to the world and its beauty, whether of the human or natural kind.

Interspersed with prayers to her personal deities, with names like "Great Mystery that is Life" and "All that is Magnificent," are recollections of her bouts with depression as she sought a career as an actress. As a wife and mother of three, she also notes that those roles take their own toll on the quest.

It is a bit of a tough go to slog through all the platitudes and relentless self-absorption, but Fortgang obviously means well. Further editing would have improved this tract.

The best chapter in this thoughtful little book is titled "Because McDonald’s doesn’t own manners." Lucinda Holdforth, an Australian writer, understands that corporations train their workers to be pleasant, but she resents paying for civility. Why can’t people treat one another with care just because it is the right thing to do?

Holdforth, author of "True Pleasures: A Memoir of Women in Paris," weaves a philosophical conversation about manners, particularly as they dominated life in 17th century France, into an intelligent, readable and often humorous treatise. She cites examples of bad manners, such as honking horns, and delineates what she means by good ones — for example, keeping one’s word by being on time. These things are important because they indicate a respect for others, which creates order, the underpinning of a civil society.

After reading Holdforth’s musings, it is hard to imagine ever cutting into a line again.